


Pain & Positivity

by MrsAlwaysRight



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Academics, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bigotry & Prejudice, Body Image, Body Positivity, Cambridge, Developing Relationship, Disappointment, Enemies With Benefits, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family, Fat Shaming, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Love/Hate, NSFW, Porn With Plot, References to Jane Austen, Smut, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-03-19 15:53:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3615651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsAlwaysRight/pseuds/MrsAlwaysRight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well, I prefer someone who would take better care of herself”, Tom snapped.<br/>“What on earth do you mean? She is quite lovely. Very pretty eyes and such a darling nature.”<br/>“From what I have seen I cannot fault her eyes”, Tom explained, “but I have no desire to date anyone who has such little self-control to allow herself to balloon into such a state.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The tumultuous applause caught her off guard. She felt her cheeks flush and her hands tremble. The elderly gentleman who had presented her before she gave her lecture gave her a little nod and a smile. He leaned towards the microphone of the podium and reaffirmed her name before he clapped his hands together in appreciation.

Several years back Daphne was a simple girl with comfortable, but not very extraordinary, prospects. She had studied for a teacher’s degree and went to university to obtain an MA in English language and literature. She wasn’t excellent and her grades were average. It wasn’t until she was already working as an English teacher for a local college that she started to do more research and published essays in her own time. Apparently, the many years of trial and error had helped her become more critical to her work and she was able to trade her comfortable, but not very extraordinary, life in the Netherlands for a much more stimulating life in London.

And tonight she had given her first of a series of lectures on the life and works of Jane Austen for the Cambridge Literary Festival. And tonight she was a little more…extraordinary.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You look as lost as I feel right now”, the woman next to Daphne said as she flashed a warm smile. Daphne chuckled. “I’m afraid I’m not much for occasions such as this”, she said as she glanced around the room. A group of men in tuxedos and women in evening gowns erupted in a cacophony of laughter, reminding her of a pack of dogs mating with a group of hyenas. “Freud once said that the voice of an intellect is a soft one, but it will not rest until it has gained a hearing. I fear they will never get any rest in their attempt to outwit each other.” The woman laughed heartily and extended her hand to shake Daphne’s. “I’m Diana.” Daphne smiled and shook the offered hand as she stated her name. “I thoroughly enjoyed your lecture of this afternoon”, Diana said. “I was particularly interested in how you criticized Pucci for calling _Northanger Abbey_ a flawed narrative. Your interpretation of Austen’s chaotic style serving as a  narrative tool to illustrate the chaos a woman goes through as they come of age was rather refreshing.” Daphne felt her cheeks flush once more. She never really knew how to deal with compliments. The best tactic she had to avoid further embarrassment was changing the topic. “Are you a lecturer here?’ Diana laughed, “Oh good grief, no. I am here with my son. He used to study here and he was asked to do a reading of several sonnets by Shakespeare. He is an actor, you see. I thought I’d just come along and support him here. I believe he is somewhere in the back, speaking to several of his old teachers. Honestly, I have had quite enough of it by now. It’s rare to find genuine people during occasions like this. I must say I’m happy I was seated next to you.” Daphne nodded as she poured herself another glass of wine from the bottle on the table. She poured Diane one as well and held up her glass to toast. “To us”, Daphne exclaimed, “may we always find misery in distinguished company.” The older lady laughed and clinked her glass to Daphne’s. “Right you are, my dear. Oh, I am so sorry for being such a nag. This is your glory night and here we sit complaining about it. You should mingle and find a nice lad to dance with instead of wasting your time with an old goat like me.” Daphne shook her head and laughed “All the good-looking lads are ten years my junior and much wiser than I am and all the men whose intellect reflect mine are twenty years my senior.” Diane leaned in and whispered as if confiding a great secret. “You know, my son is single and I truly wish he’d settle down with a girl like you.” Daphne smirked, “I’m sure he is surrounded by pretty actresses all the time?” Diana snorted, “pretty actresses indeed. Have you met any of them? Pompous divas, the lot of them. I should know. I was a stage manager once. A good, sensible, honest girl with a brain larger than a pea. That’s what he needs.”

Daphne had been with only three men in her life. All three had broken her heart into a million pieces. She would just have herself together again and collected hope for a better outcome when the next boy tossed her aside as if she was nothing. She wasn’t very romantic anymore. That notion was gone. At 32 she did not expect she would settle for a romantic relationship anymore. She felt a little like Elinor in _Sense and Sensibility_ at times. She had to let her head rule rather than her heart. The three men that had been in her life were never very handsome nor were they very ugly, but all three had been much slimmer than she was. Daphne had to rely on her wit and sweet disposition. At least, that was what her ex-boyfriends told her. Although she did not think she had a bad-looking face, she had struggled with her weight for as long as she could remember. The first time she went on a diet was when she was seven and for some reason it just never seemed to work. Daphne could not quite remember the day she ate like a normal person. When she was 26 she went to see an internist as she was just not able to lose even one pound, despite rigorous dieting. Her boyfriend at the time had taken to commenting on her size every opportunity he could seize and Daphne had started to feel insecure. “Healthy obesity”, the doctor had exclaimed happily, “you’re lucky. It’s pretty rare. You suffer from a hormonal imbalance, so shedding weight is extremely difficult and you gain very easily. However, your heart, lungs, blood, and brain are all good. Congratulations.”

Daphne had cried herself to sleep that night. Her boyfriend had left her upon hearing she would never be the slender, hot girlfriend that he so longed for. She focused on her work and her study and vowed she would never believe in romantic love again. Not even when an eccentric, but lovely older lady basically offered her actor son to her. Despite the fact that she had not had any decent sex in what has possible been years.

The last time had been when she had just moved to London. A drunken, clumsy night with a younger intern who had a thing for “older, more voluminous ladies”. His words. After the act, which had not resulted in a climax for her as he reached his much too quickly, he had excitedly talked about video games for two hours, which caused Daphne to pack her things, bid him farewell and get the hell out.

Daphne often fantasized about a gorgeous-looking man ravishing her just because he desperately wanted to claim her. Passionate, but empty sex. Just to feel “utterly woman”. This had never happened and she doubted it would ever happen.

“Ah Thomas”, Diana cried, “I was starting to wonder if you would ever get enough of hearing yourself talk.”  


“Oh haha”, said the woman’s son in feigned mockery as he leaned in to kiss his mother’s cheek.

“Thomas, I’d like you to meet Daphne. She has kept me company all through this insufferable dinner and I must say she is a delight. Make your mother happy and ask the girl for a dance.”

Daphne looked up bemused and suddenly felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured all over her.

His eyes were hauntingly familiar, of course. As were his thin lips. His nose. That gorgeous, impossibly elegant, nose. She was surprised she hadn’t recognized his voice.

She had almost memorized it. After all, he had been a key figure in many of her sexually frustrated  dreams. Many sensual but lonely nights had been spent with a glass of wine and a good movie starring him.

Never had she imagined…

“Th-this is your son?” Daphne was barely able to make the question sound casual.

“Hi, I’m Tom…” a large, strong hand shook hers and she felt momentarily dizzy.

“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Hiddleston”, she said, almost scaring herself with her level of self-control. She had known attractive men. At university she shared many classes with many gorgeous men. Not one could ever compare to the beauty that stood before her now.

Up to this very moment her fantasies of this unattainable actor had been safe.

And now his mother was desperately trying to match-make.

“You’re familiar with my work?”, he asked politely.

“Vaguely”, Daphne lied.

“You two should dance. Young men and women should dance and be merry. Go on then.” Diana’s speech had become just slightly slurred, betraying that her terrible match-making skills were most certainly to be blamed on alcohol.

Tom looked at her. To Daphne’s sobering shock, his eyes travelled from her face to her ample chest, her large belly, her strong, wide thighs and back up to her plump arms and the extra rounding under her chin. She could read nothing but disdain and Daphne felt horribly exposed.

“I’m sorry. Maybe later…”, he said.

“Oh no, you don’t have to…”, Daphne started, but Tom had already turned to speak to someone else.

“I errhm…I need to go powder my nose”, she said to no one in particular as she made herself scarce.  Diana was being introduced to the man who had interrupted the conversation and didn’t see or hear her new friend leave. Behind a pillar Daphne caught her breath as she peered between the leaves of a decorative palm.

“I’m sorry, Tom. I fear I might have scared your lady-friend off. I will leave you to enjoy the remainder of this party”, the man exclaimed heartily.

“Not a problem as I don’t really know her, James. It was so lovely seeing you again.” The two men shook hands and James bowed ceremoniously to Diana before leaving mother and son on their own.  

“Who was she anyway, mum?” Tom inquired.

“Such a lovely, intelligent girl, Tom. You should ask her for a date.” Diana was certainly not making any secret of it now.

“Ehehehe, I think not”, Tom chuckled, “I don’t know her at all and I’m afraid she’s not quite my type.”

“Not your type?”, Diana cried, “why, I don’t believe you are quite certain what your type is!”

“Well, I prefer someone who would take better care of herself”, Tom snapped.

“What on earth do you mean? She is quite lovely. Very pretty eyes and such a darling nature.”

“From what I have seen I cannot fault her eyes”, Tom explained, “but I have no desire to date anyone who has such little self-control to allow herself to balloon into such a state.”

Daphne gasped. It was clear that Tom felt absolutely no attraction to her, which she would never have expected anyway, but for him to be so horribly prejudiced was something she had also not expected.

“Oh, I suppose she’s plump”, his mother protested, “but surely that should not matter.”

“Plump is an understatement”, Tom growled, but he quickly held his tongue as Daphne appeared again.

A newfound confidence, or was it anger, spurred her on. She swooped up her glass of wine and gave Diana a little smile. “It was so lovely meeting you, Diana”, she said, ignoring Tom. “Thank you so much for making this party tolerable.”

“Oh Daphne, you were a delight. You should come visit me, dear. With my children being so incredibly busy with their careers-“, she shot Tom an accusing look, “- I get so lonely. Come over for dinner, my dear. Do you have a card?”

“Right here”, Daphne mumbled as she fished her card from her purse and handed it to her new friend. “Thank you again, Diana. I’d love to hear from you soon…”

Daphne turned to leave, just catching Tom nodding as a farewell. She gave him a cold look, leading him to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

With her glass in hand she moved to the beckoning balcony doors , promising fresh air and a private moment to relish in her  anger.

Outside she huffed and puffed while frantically sipping from her wine. It gave her no comfort. She stood there hearing Tom’s insults in her head over and over again, uttered with that deliciously warm voice. It cut her to her very core.

It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to it though. Whenever she went out into the streets she felt strangers staring as she passed them. Strikingly, people were only brave enough to shout abuse at her openly whenever they weren’t alone. Whenever someone was alone it stayed with silent judgment. Affronted eyes would burn holes in her as if she was the cause of third world famine. Daphne had to endure it every day and it did little to hurt her anymore. She usually ignored it or she would tell herself that she knew better.

But to be the subject of _his_ antipathy was something she had a hard time with.

A light cough behind her roused her from her musings. Tom had stepped onto the balcony.

“Oh, I’m sorry…” he muttered, “I thought I’d come here for some fresh air. Didn’t mean to disturb. I thought you’d left by now…”

“It’s a free world”, Daphne said bitterly, “but perhaps you don’t wish to share this balcony with someone who has so little self-control to allow herself to balloon to such a state."

The silence that followed was probably not much longer than a few seconds, but to Daphne it felt like just a little too long.

“Ah, I see”, Tom sighed, “you heard that…” It was not a question.

“Clearly.”

“That was not my intention.”

“Evidently.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but-…” he hesitated and Daphne couldn’t believe that he would even consider a “but” right now. What was there to possibly offer as an excuse?

His eyes flared as they met hers. “I have nothing but respect for your achievements and my mum certainly seemed to like you. She’s pretty picky when it comes to people, so you must have been nothing but pleasant to her, but you can’t deny that you haven’t let yourself go!”

“Let myself go?!” Daphne’s voice had become shrill with incredulity. “What are you, my doctor?”

“No one becomes fat unless they are overeating and not exercising. I don’t need to be a doctor to know this and I’m sure yours has told you the same. Go out for a run once in a while. It won’t hurt you.”

Daphne had to fight hard to resist the urge to slap that handsome, intolerant face.

“Not that it is even any of your business, but that is not at all what is the case here. And even if it was, it would still not fucking concern you!”

Tom let out a harsh laugh. “Language, please. I had expected better from a respected scholar.”

Daphne guessed it was true that one should never meet one’s heroes. Her positive opinion of this man had just been crushed in a matter of seconds. She let out a frustrated grunt. “I have a hormonal imbalance, you insensitive prick!”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Are you serious? That is what you’re telling yourself? It is common knowledge that those are just excuses used by people who will not own up to their self-induced problems. I’m sorry if you find the truth difficult to face.”

“My doctor is the one who told me. I’ve been in and out of hospitals to get myself checked out. I’ve been gaining weight since my childhood and there was no explicable reason. I’ve dieted my whole life. Why am I even telling you? You’ve clearly made your mind up about me.”

“I’m just concerned you will let your distorted ideas get in the way of your health.”

Daphne laughed scornfully as she turned away from him, letting her gaze drift over the twinkling lights of the town in the distance. “My health? Yes, because you are so concerned with my health. You would be heartbroken if something would happen to me, this stranger you just met at a party.”

“Who’s judging now?” Tom snapped.

Daphne turned to face him. “I am not the problem here. Do you really want to know what I see? You are the sort of man who lets impossible beauty standards - no doubt caused by the crazy demands the entertainment business asks of women- get in the way of valuing a person for exactly being that. A _person_. In a mere glance you determined that I have no self-control, that I am delusional, that I am lazy and that I am unhealthy. You got all that from just one look. You are such a vision of perfection yourself that you have come to let that lead your idea of what others should be. Excuse me for thinking you might just be the most dim-witted, self-important, inconsiderate asshole I have ever met!”

Astoundingly, Tom chuckled. “Ehehehe, a vision of perfection?”

Daphne threw up her hands in exasperation, picked up her empty glass and turned to leave. At the balcony door she paused and tilted her head towards him. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. That is about the only thing you’re good for.”

“I’m good enough to know you should not end a sentence in a preposition, Ms. Scholar.”

The glass was thrown so suddenly that Tom couldn’t help but jump when it shattered into a million pieces right in front of his feet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can’t help that I’m not attracted to a larger woman. I mean, her eyes…yes, she has very pretty eyes. Her face is rather handsome. She’s quite beautiful for a big girl.” Emma rolled her eyes. Tom continued, “And yes…I did offend her. Fine. It’s not like she was very kind to me. She wasn’t supposed to overhear me saying that about her, but she did. She could have opened up the conversation in a different manner, but she was snide and arrogant.”

Chapter 2

The sun shone kindly and the air was sweet with spring blossoms. Daphne cheerfully rapped on the door of Diana’s house. After e-mailing back and forth several times, Diana had invited her to come over for lunch in her garden. Today was the perfect day for just that and Daphne was looking forward to seeing her new friend again.

The beautiful front door opened and Diana’s bright smile warmed Daphne’s heart as the older lady’s arms stretched out to embrace her. “Ah, you’ve made it, my dear. Did you have any difficulty finding it? I’m so happy to see you again. Come in, come in.” Daphne chuckled at her enthusiasm as she stepped inside.

“What a lovely home”, Daphne said politely as she looked around. “Ah yes, home for many years now”, Diana said, “I’ve never liked the fuss in London. I prefer Oxford so much more.” Daphne nodded. She could understand that Oxford was much more relaxing than the drama of London, but she still loved the city and couldn’t imagine leaving it now that she lived there. Never a dull moment.

“Mum, have you seen that black leather jacket Emma got me for Christmas? I’m pretty sure it should be here somewh- oh…” Tom stopped short halfway down the stairs as he caught sight of Daphne. Daphne had to stifle a groan when she realized that Tom was there. Of course, he is Diana’s son and of course she had to expect that she might run into him again one day, but she had dearly hoped it would not have been so soon after the fiasco at the Literary Festival dinner only a few weeks ago. She had barely recovered from the ridiculousness of that night. She wasn’t sure if she could stand another encounter without throttling him.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. I swear, Daphne, whenever you have children- mark my words- they will move out to stand on their own two feet, but you’ll still be drowning in their stuff for decades. Thomas, I’ve put it in the wardrobe in the guest room upstairs. Now take that jacket home with you, dear. You’re always looking for it.”

“I wasn’t aware that you’d be here”, Daphne said to Tom. Her tone sounded friendly enough for Diana’s sake, but her demeanor was cold.

“Oh yes, Tom arrived last night after a week of filming a documentary in- where was it, dear? Somewhere in Italy. I asked him to spend some of his time off with his old mother.”

“I was in Sicily shooting a new advertisement for Jaguar”, Tom said in a similar tone to Daphne’s. His eyes bore into hers, matching her iciness. “I didn’t know you’d be here either. I would have postponed my visit.”

_I’m sure you would have, you bastard._ Daphne kept her thoughts to herself. However,  her lips were sealed so tightly it revealed just how much she disliked him.

“Nonsense”, Diana protested, “The two of you can get to know each other better. And there’s more than enough food for the three of us today.”

Noting Daphne’s response to his presence, Tom gave her the up and down. “Are you certain about that?”

Daphne’s mouth dropped at his insolence. _Bastard._

“Come outside. The weather is gorgeous and I have lemonade and finger sandwiches”, Diana chattered, completely unaware of the tension between her son and her young friend.

Daphne sat herself down in the elegant lawn chair. Tom sat across from her, crossing his legs. His eyes never left her face, making her increasingly uncomfortable. She shifted back and forth.

“Mum, didn’t you recently have that chair repaired?’ Tom asked in a mockingly light tone. Daphne’s nose flared and Tom’s eyes shone in delight. It was so easy to piss her off and it entertained him greatly.

“No, it’s this one, dear”, Diana said, pointing to the chair she sat in herself.

“Oh, that’s right. These chairs are pretty old. You never know when they’ll just…give up.”

Daphne clenched her fists. She was right. It would be pretty damn hard to deal with him. He seemed absolutely determined to push her buttons and it was working pretty well. For the sake of Diana she decided to ignore his taunting entirely.

“Diana, thank you so much for inviting me. I needed to take my mind off work for a moment and I can’t wait to explore Oxford the coming week. Anything you can recommend?”

Diana was full of suggestions and Daphne was just happy she had so much to tell that it was impossible for Tom to get a word in edgewise. She was pretty convinced everything that would come out of his mouth would be a way to get to her, so she made sure she kept Diana talking.

Tom tapped his foot impatiently, twirling his fork in hand. He studied Daphne’s face, sometimes allowing his eyes to trail down to the rest of her body and then back up to her face. Daphne was terribly aware of his penetrating stare. He could tell it made her nervous. Her cheeks flushed and her green eyes flared whenever she caught him looking at her. Every time their eyes met Tom made certain to give her a devilish grin. The way she would huff and stick her arrogant little nose up in the air was almost cartoon-like.

His mother took a moment to eat her sandwich, which gave him the opportunity to relay his plans to her. “I’m thinking of taking the drive to Wimbledon on Friday to see the match. I’ll then drive back to London straight after as it’s just 40 minutes away.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Thomas. Take Daphne with you! She’s returning on Friday and then she won’t have to take public transport.” His mother clapped her hands with glee. This was turning out more wonderful than she had thought.

Tom and Daphne both widened their eyes. Both protested, while attempting to hide their disdain from Diana.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly-“ Daphne started.

“She’d have to sit through the whole match-“ Tom stuttered.

“Perfectly fine taking a bus…”

“Probably doesn’t even like tennis.”

“So kind of you, Tom, but-“

“wouldn’t want to make you sit through that-“

“Can’t possible impose-“

“Oh you’re not imposing, but-“

“Wonderful!” Diana interrupted the two fumbling idiots. “Daphne’s not imposing and you’ll have someone to educate on tennis, Thomas. You love doing that.”

Tom bit his lip in frustration and Daphne was out of options to get out of it. An uncomfortable silence remained until Tom decided to end it.

“Fine. I’ll bring you to Wimbledon and then home. Now,  if you will excuse me, please. I have some reading to do…” Tom tossed his napkin on the table and walked away.

Diana was beaming. “I knew I’d get you two to go on a date.”

Daphne sighed.

 

What was supposed to be a pleasant holiday away from her obligations had turned into a snubfest between her and Tom. Daphne was surprised that Diana was so oblivious to it all.

An outing to the Ashmolean Museum resulted in Tom and Daphne hissing insults to each other whenever Diana wasn’t paying attention to them.  Tom had commented on one of the paintings by a Franco-Flemish artist depicting a voluptuous Lady Justice. He had called her figure rubenesque. Daphne, whose actual rubenesque body was so much larger than that of Lady Justice, had taken offence to his statement.

“If _this_ is rubenesque in your eyes, you would consider a size 14 morbidly obese!” she spat.  

“Oh really”, Tom rolled his eyes, “Absolutely right, Daphne. You’ve figured me out completely. Well done. You should be given another doctorate for your talent to find hidden meanings in every. fucking. thing. Daphne Vale, doctor of omnisciency!”

“You mean _omniscience,_ you addlepate!”

Tom rubbed his forehead in frustration and groaned. “You are, without a doubt, the single most frustrating person I have ever met.”

His mother interrupted the squabbling pair to show them an ancient Egyptian artefact. The rest of the afternoon was spent mostly ignoring each other and only speaking directly to Diana.

Diana’s daughter Emma came over for tea one evening. Daphne had been invited as well. The two women got on reasonably well and Daphne asked Emma all about her latest work on Wolf Hall. Tom picked at his food while listening to the ladies chatting, wondering how on earth it was possible everyone seemed to love this prudent, arrogant bitch.

Emma was no fool and as the siblings cleared the table she confronted her brother in the kitchen. “What’s wrong with you? You look like someone’s pissed in your cereal.”

“I can’t stand her, Em”, Tom confessed. “What’s she doing with our mother anyway? What does she matter to her?”

“I think they just get along. Is that such a huge problem? Does there need to be some secret, ulterior motive? She seems absolutely lovely to me, but the two of you keep shooting daggers at each other. I don’t get it.”

“We didn’t exactly start off on the right foot”, Tom muttered. “Did you know she threw a glass at me on the very first night we met?”

“Shut up! She didn’t!” Emma gasped. “What did you do?”

“Why would you think I did something?” Tom protested.

“Because I know you, Tom. You can be all charm and loveliness and then sometimes the gloves come off and you can be incredibly pretentious and judgmental. Daphne doesn’t strike me as the type of girl that would start throwing glasses at strangers because she doesn’t like the look of ‘em.”

Tom sighed. “Well, she did overhear me saying something about her size.” He caught his sister’s eyes widening and quickly added “In my defense, I was so tired of mum trying to get me a new girlfriend. I don’t think I have any problems with women at all!”

“The problem is that she usually doesn’t approve of them…” Emma giggled. “Honestly, Tom. You have shit taste in women…sure, they look gorgeous and glamorous, but they have all broken your heart.”

“That doesn’t mean she has to fix me up with a new one that matches her standards.”

“You don’t approve of mum’s standards?”

“Look at her…” he said as he waved his hand in Daphne’s direction.

“I think she’s quite lovely, Tom. Very pretty.”

“She’s so…so…fiery though…”

“So are you disapproving of her looks or of her demeanor?”

“I can’t help that I’m not attracted to a larger woman. I mean, her eyes…yes, she has very pretty eyes. Her face is rather handsome. She’s quite beautiful for a big girl.” Emma rolled her eyes. Tom continued, “And yes…I did offend her. Fine. It’s not like she was very kind to me. She wasn’t supposed to overhear me saying that about her, but she did. She could have opened up the conversation in a different manner, but she was snide and arrogant.”

“A defense mechanism”, Emma suggested. “Some people just respond like that when they feel judged. You can try to twist and turn out of it, Tom, but you did judge her! From the sounds of it, if you would have given her a chance, you might have actually liked her.”

“This week has been a disaster”, Tom sighed. “We simply don’t get along and mum is relentless. Tomorrow I’m supposed to take her to Wimbledon and I’m not sure what will happen. Several hours of bickering? It’ll be exhausting.”

“Don’t provoke her…”

Tom’s lips curved into a sly smile. Emma raised an eyebrow.

“You do it on purpose!” she accused. “You love it! You love to provoke her…”

“Ehehehe”, Tom laughed, “she’s so delightfully…hot-blooded. It’s so easy to make her blow up. Her…her -…” he erupted into more laughter, “her nose will flare like this…” he demonstrated.

“You’re cruel”, Emma said, hitting her brother on his arm.

Tom laughed again as Emma returned to the dining room carrying the tray with desserts.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was defending you, wasn’t I?!” Tom yelled with exasperation. “This morning I was a judgmental asshole for thinking you’re too fat-…” Daphne winced at his words, “…- and now you think I’m an idiot for sticking up for you! You know what, Daphne? Fuck you! You want to know what I think about you? You are a prissy, stuck up little princess who is too used to people tiptoeing around your oh-so-delicate feelings that you have become blinded to how the world really works. You flaunt your education and think yourself so superior over others when all you do is hiding behind your degree. It’s a fucking piece of paper and a meaningless title. It says nothing about you, the sort of person you are or the good things you’ve done in your life. You think I’m an idiot? When’s the fucking last time you did something for someone?!”

Chapter 3

“Right. Let’s get this over with”, Tom said as soon as Daphne appeared at the door of the Malmaison Oxford hotel.

“Alright, alright”, Daphne grumbled as she struggled with her suitcase. She had never been to a Wimbledon match before and especially never accompanied a celebrity to anywhere. That morning she had mainly gone through her wardrobe with great anxiety. She had finally settled on her favourite summer dress. A vintage-style bottle-green dress with a white trim neckline and white buttons. The dress accentuated all the good curves of her body. It was custom-made by a tailor that actually knew how to make plus-sized women look good.

After determining her dress she had to decide what to do with her hair. She finally decided to use her curler for some strategically placed curls, but let her red locks down semi-nonchalant.   

Repacking her suitcase was a disaster though and she was paying the price for her vanity now.

Tom popped the boot of his jaguar and Daphne heaved her suitcase in with a loud thump.

“What have you got in there? The Oxford library?” Tom taunted.

“Fuck you.”

“So eloquent. Your razor-sharp wit cuts me to my core, my dear. ”

Daphne couldn’t believe the amount of self-control she had to muster not to physically attack him. He made her blood boil. That pompous ass with his impeccable fashion sense. And his stupid, sensual voice. And those infuriating eyes that constantly seem to change colour. And that nose…that gorgeous, impossibly elegant nose…

_A vision of perfection…_

Daphne felt angry with herself. Despite the fact that the man was just about as sympathetic as the fiery depths of hell, she still could not deny she found him fatally attractive. Today was no exception. He was wearing a pale blue shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a dark blue vest with matching pants. His hair was well-kept, while his soft curls still playfully danced in the light summer breeze. He was clean-shaven today. Last night, at dinner, he was still sporting some sexy stubble and simply wore a t-shirt and jeans. Today he looked very, very smart.  

_Ugh. I hate him._

Tom took place at the steering wheel as Daphne sat on the passenger’s seat. He glanced over. She looked nice today. That dress was pretty flattering. Not bad at all. Pretty low-cut though. Her cleavage was just visible enough to make him wonder, but she did a good job of still being tasteful. _My God, did I just think about her breasts?_ Tom quickly started the engine and decided not to speak to her until they were there. That would probably ensure that she wouldn’t beat him up before they would get there.

 The quiet drive was both awkward and pleasant. The fact she had to spend such a long time so close to a man who really couldn’t stand her was just incredibly strange. On the other hand, she appreciated the fact that this gave them both the opportunity not to lash out at each other. As long as he kept his mouth shut, she might not even mind his company. He was certainly pleasant to look at. It was just the talking that seemed to get in the way. To think she once idolized this man. Daphne chuckled softly.

“What’s so funny?”, Tom asked pointedly.

“To think so many women adore you. If only they knew…”

He sighed. It was pretty tiresome she looked for every opportunity to point out how horrible she thought he was. “And you know so well, don’t you?”

“I think I have a pretty good idea of the type of person I’m dealing with, Mr. Hiddleston.”

“Smart, funny, charming and dazzling good looks?” he quipped.

Daphne rolled her eyes. Tom laughed heartily. They didn’t talk again until they arrived at Wimbledon.

The seats Tom was able to get were probably “the good ones”. Daphne wouldn’t really know, but judging from the English celebrities surrounding them, she came to understand they came at a particular price.

“Can you see alright?” Tom asked as he sat next to her. Daphne nodded uncomfortably. She felt terribly out of place. And she honestly didn’t understand the first thing about tennis.

As if sensing her distress, Tom leaned over and whispered: “Would you like me to explain it to you?”

Daphne nodded again. “I fear I’ll be clapping for the wrong team or make a fool out of myself another way.”

Tom chuckled lightly and explained. “Basically, a player will win a point every time the opponent is not able to return the ball. Mind you, the ball does have land within the margins of the court. Between those lines there”, he pointed, “and there. See? You need four points to win a game, but the names of the scores might be a little confusing. One point is 15, two points is 30, three points is 40 and the fourth would result in the winning point. If the scores would be 40-40 we would call it deuce. This means the player would have to win by two clear points.”

“And then they win the game?” Daphne asked uncertainly.

“Then they would win the game. They would switch sides until another game is won and so on. The best out of six games wins the set. In order to win the whole match they need to win three out od five sets. Get it?”

“I think so. Who are we rooting for?” Daphne asked at the same moment the players entered the court. The audience applauded and Daphne thought it best to just join them. “Whoo! Yeah! You go-…erhm…dude”

“The one with the low, busy eyebrows”, said Tom bemused, “That’s Roger Federer. We’ll be rooting for him today.”

“Federer…” Daphne mused, “English?”

“Swiss”, said Tom.

“Oh, we’re staying neutral?”

Tom raised a brow, uncomprehending.

“It’s erhh-…I was making a bad joke. You know…Switzerland… We’re erhh…not choosing a country?” Daphne asked.

“We’re supporting the player”, Tom said simply. “Federer is elegant. Like Shakespeare, but of tennis. Absolutely sensational to watch.”

Tom was clearly excited for this. He held his breath, clapped excitedly, gasped, cheered and kept his mouth shut at all the appropriate moments. Daphne, still not quite getting it, decided to follow his lead. She glanced at him. He radiated a schoolboyish innocence as he watched the match unfold. It was almost…cute.

The players needed their break and Tom stood up. “Do you want anything? A drink? Something to snack on?”

“Yes”, Daphne began, “I’d like 2 of those portions of strawberries with cream, 4 slices of pizza and a sausage. Oh, and a diet coke. I wouldn’t want to get fat.”

Tom’s mouth dropped, blinking incredulously. Daphne snickered and grinned. “Just a Pimm’s, please. Cheers.”

Tom shook his head and turned around to get her order, hiding his smile from her. This outing might not turn out so bad after all.

Upon his return he immediately noticed a change in Daphne’s mood. She had been relatively light-hearted up to now, but when he said down next to her and gave her the Pimm’s she asked for, she took it in silence and sipped from it, turning her face away from him.

Tom sighed with annoyance. “What did I do now?”

“Not everything is about you, Tom”, Daphne hissed, “come off your high horse for one second, please.”

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing.”

“That is just a blatant lie. You were joking only 10 minutes ago. What happened?”

“This guy-…”Daphne forced back a sob… “told his friend I would need two people to hold my flaps before a third would be able to find my…my…”

“Your…your what?”

“Va-vagina…”  Daphne swallowed. She sipped from her Pimm’s. Then she sat back and became stone-faced. “No matter. Let’s just watch the match.”

Tom gritted his teeth. “Who said that exactly?”

“Just leave it.”

“ _Who?_ ” He demanded again, but Daphne didn’t need to answer. Several seats away two men in their mid-thirties were guffawing, whilst pointing at Daphne. Tom stood up.

“Tom, just leave it!” Daphne said again, but Tom ignored her as he strode over to the two offenders.

Daphne couldn’t quite catch the conversation, but she saw Tom gesturing wildly. The men just started laughing more. That’s when it happened. Daphne couldn’t believe her eyes. One of the men was rolling in agony as the other jumped up to attack Tom for punching his friend. Bystanders got involved, there was some pushing and eventually security had to get involved.

Tom was asked to leave.

Turning away from cameras and other prying eyes, he quickly passed Daphne, grabbed her hand as he did, grunted “come on” and made for the exit.

“What the fuck did you do?!” Daphne shouted as they were making their way to Tom’s car.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Tom asked roughly. He let go of her hand, dug in his pockets for the car keys and unlocked the car. “Get in.”

Daphne did as she was told, but wouldn’t give up scolding him. “No, I said LEAVE IT, didn’t I? Why the hell would you be so stupid?!”

“STOP. CALLING. ME. STUPID”, Tom roared, hitting his steering wheel with every word. Daphne was unimpressed.

“I’ll stop calling you stupid when you stop acting like a damned fool.”

“I was defending you, wasn’t I?!” Tom yelled with exasperation. “This morning I was a judgmental asshole for thinking you’re too fat-…” Daphne winced at his words, “…- and now you think I’m an idiot for sticking up for you! You know what, Daphne? Fuck you! You want to know what I think about _you_? You are a prissy, stuck up little princess who is too used to people tiptoeing around your oh-so-delicate feelings that you have become blinded to how the world really works. You flaunt your education and think yourself so superior over others when all you do is hiding behind your degree. It’s a fucking piece of paper and a meaningless title. It says nothing about you, the sort of person you are or the good things you’ve done in your life. You think I’m an idiot? When’s the fucking last time you did something for someone?!”

Daphne was shocked beyond words.

Tom shook his head. “That’s what I thought.” He started the engine and drove off, ignoring Daphne until they were close to London. “Where do I go?’ he asked coldly. Daphne gave him directions to her Hampstead Heath apartment.

As Tom made his way to her home she challenged him again. “You really don’t think that you acted foolish” she asked him.

“Shut up, Daphne.”

“No, I want to know. You can’t have actually thought that what you were doing was going to turn out well!? I live right there, by the way.”

Tom came to a screeching halt, parked the car aggressively, got out, popped the boot of the car, grabbed Daphne’s suitcase and shoved it in her arms.

He then turned on his heels and walked to her front door. Daphne followed him, absolutely puzzled by his crazy behaviour.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Open the door”, he demanded.

“Well, yes”, Daphne said as she dropped her suitcase and fumbled with her keys. “I want to get in and just forget all about this awful week…” She opened her front door and Tom strode in.

“What the-“, Daphne protested. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Looking for the kitchen”, Tom said gruffly. “Is it here?” He took a left turn into the dining area and another left into her kitchen. He grabbed the empty electric kettle on the counter, filled it with water and turned it on.

“This is my house!” Daphne screamed, “You can’t just invade my private space!”

“You’ve been invading my private space this whole week”, Tom muttered. “Where do you keep your tea?”

“Put that down and leave!” Daphne stomped her foot. “I don’t want you here!”

Tom ignored her as he went through her cupboards. Daphne let out a frustrated shriek while she tossed her suitcase in a corner. Undaunted, Tom continued looking for tea.

“Aha!” he cried triumphantly as he found a box of earl grey. He took out a bag, grabbed a cup from the shelve and started making tea.

“Want one?” he asked.

“You’re being ridiculous.” Daphne said through gritted teeth.

“Guess not”, Tom stated.

“Why are you doing this?” Daphne demanded, on the brink of hysterics.

“Isn’t every date supposed to end with a good cup of tea?” Tom asked matter-of-factly before sipping from his cup.

Daphne’s mouth dropped.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looked up to look at her. A mischievous glint in his eye utterly puzzled her. “I think you want me…” he said.
> 
> “W-what?” Daphne stammered.
> 
> “You’ve wanted me from the moment we’ve met. You wanted me when we saw each other again at my mum’s house. You wanted me in the museum. You wanted me at Wimbledon, you wanted me in the car…” he took another step closer, leaning in even more. His lips were barely touching hers. “And you want me now…”

Chapter 4

“Oh no…” Daphne said, “this is not a date.”

“According to my mother it was”, Tom said bitterly.

Daphne would have to agree with him that his mother had been ferocious when it came to setting them up. She could understand, to a point, that it was frustrating for him to have a parent trying to get involved in his lovelife.

“Not according to me”, Daphne persisted, “and I really don’t understand why you’d think you can get away with just waltzing into my house, like you own the place.”

“What do you have against me, Daphne?”

“Me?’ Daphne mouthed soundlessly, “You think it was me who started all this?” Her voice was shrill with rage.

“You were the one that brought it to this level, yes.” Tom noted calmly as he sat his empty cup on the counter.

 “God, you’re repulsive!” she screamed.

“Am I?”

“Disgusting!”

Without warning Tom sprang up and took two large steps to back Daphne up against the kitchen door. He drew in a deep breath and placed both his hands on either side of Daphne against the door, leaning in close. She turned her face away from him, not knowing what to expect. His breath caressed her skin, making it painfully evident how close he really was. She tried to convince herself that he wanted to make a point. That he was violating her personal space just to fuck with her head. The thought of giving him the satisfaction of intimidation was so terrible that she overcame her uneasiness and turned her head to face him. To challenge him.  The fact that Tom was staring at her lips rather than her eyes took her aback.  

“I disgust you?” his voice was low, slightly raspy.

“I loathe you”, she whispered.

He looked up to look at her. A mischievous glint in his eye utterly puzzled her.  “I think you want me…” he said.

“W-what?” Daphne stammered.

“You’ve wanted me from the moment we’ve met. You wanted me when we saw each other again at my mum’s house. You wanted me in the museum. You wanted me at Wimbledon, you wanted me in the car…” he took another step closer, leaning in even more. His lips were barely touching hers. “And you want me now…”

Daphne’s breath hitched in her throat. Tom’s left hand slid down from the door to cup her cheek.

“Tell me I’m wrong…” he breathed, “tell me you don’t want me to kiss you right now…”

“I…don’t…” Daphne panted. His mouth was so close to hers that she could almost feel his lips, yet he was careful not to give in just yet. To her horror she realized he was turning her on. A warm glow erupted from her stomach, travelling down to her sex and spreading until it all pooled in her clitoris.

“You don’t want my mouth on yours…”, Tom murmured, “…my hands on your breasts…”, his other hand slipped down and trailed over her neck, down to rest on her chest. Daphne felt her nipples harden with anticipation. Every word whispered against her skin sent a jolt of electricity through her. “…my tongue…” his tongue licked out, but again, barely grazed against her upper lip. She could almost taste him. He moved his mouth to her ear, “…exploring your velvet folds…tasting you.”

Daphne gasped helplessly. For Tom this was invitation enough. He crashed his lips against hers. Both moaning as their lips parted and their tongues met in a slow, sensual dance. Daphne was dizzy with delight. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating, the taste of his tongue delicious poison. He let out a lustful growl against her mouth, making her almost lose her footing. His hands roamed her body eagerly, exploring those wonderful breasts he had fantasized about that morning. Daphne bucked her hips and he answered by pressing his lower body tightly against hers. When Tom withdrew Daphne whispered “I hate you…”

“I know…” Tom chuckled and kissed her passionately again. “and I…” he nipped at her bottom lip, “can’t stand…” trailed his tongue from the corner of her mouth to her ear, “you…” he bit her earlobe, then whispered “But I’ve thought about fucking you from the moment you threw that glass at me…”

“Oh God…” Daphne heaved. Tom’s tongue trailed little circles over the shell of her ear. His right hand hiked up the skirt of her dress and snaked down to palm her sex. Daphne cried out.

“Tell me you don’t want it”, he moaned, loving every sound she made, “say the word and I’ll stop. I’ll stop kissing you”, he licked her lower lip softly, “I’ll stop rubbing you”, he pressed his hand just hard enough against her sex for her clit to beg for more. Daphne let out a small whine, thinking she was going mad with want. “You won’t…”  Tom’s left hand grabbed hers and placed it over his swelling manhood, “feel this sliding inside you over and over again until I make you come undone and scream my name in ecstasy…”

“Fuck…” Daphne sighed, thrusting against Tom’s relentless hand. “Yes…” she begged desperately, “Yes….I want you…”

Tom kissed her deeply again, grabbing her roughly by the hips to turn her around and push her against the kitchen table. He made her hop on and hiked up her skirt further before licking and kissing down. He kneeled before her sex and breathed in her scent before exhaling shakily. “Christ, you smell divine. I can’t wait to taste you.” He dived in and pressed his tongue against the wet spot on her panties. Daphne threw her head back and moaned. Tantalizingly slowly he moved her panties aside. Tom couldn’t help but admire her womanhood, glistening with lust. He licked one long stripe from bottom to top and had to grab Daphne’s hips tight as she violently jerked at the sensation. His mouth closed over her most sensitive nub. Daphne babbled incoherently at his ministrations. His tongue flicked up and down rapidly before plunging deep into her core. She thought she was going to pass out from pleasure. Whenever she had been intimate with men it usually involved her pleasing them, a quick romp in the sack and Daphne was usually left feeling unsatisfied and unimportant. Tom was opening up a whole new world for her. He plunged two long digits deep into her core and curled them up to stroke her g-spot. Daphne began to quiver and Tom grinned, tonguing her clit while allowing his fingers to pump at a steady pace. Her moans increased in volume, pitch and speed, signaling him to her approaching orgasm. She contracted around his fingers as one final stroke of his tongue sent her spiraling over the edge. The sensations were overwhelming. Her toes curled, her voice hoarse with passionate screams. Tom felt an aching need to swallow her moans with his mouth and kissed her. She tasted her own sweetness on his lips and tongue. Her hands reached for him and pulled him closer, desperate for more intimacy.

“Bedroom?” he hummed in her ear and Daphne nodded, slipping from the table. Subconsciously she smoothed down her skirt as she led him to her sleeping area. Catching this Tom ensured her she wouldn’t be wearing that dress much longer anyway. He smiled as her cheeks flushed red. Her embarrassment was extraordinary to him, especially as he had just kissed and licked her to what had appeared to be a spectacular orgasm.

Daphne opened the door to her bedroom and led him inside. She turned to steal another kiss. Tom circled his arms around her and pulled her close to him. Her fingers fondled the buttons of his vest. He smirked as he helped her undo them and shrugged the garment off.

Daphne took a small step back and admired him. His shirt accentuated his chest perfectly, while his pants hugged his bum just right. Daphne loved looking at him. He was beautiful. She wanted to take her time undressing him, still scarcely believing the man she used to fantasize about was now allowing her to take his clothes off. She wanted to enjoy every single inch of him. Tom raised a brow as she stood there watching him. He chuckled uncomfortably – eheh- and then grabbed her waist to pull her close to him again. “Are you ok?” he asked.

Daphne just smiled and fingered the buttons of his shirt. One by one she popped them open.  Tom watched her intently as she slipped his shirt over his shoulders, allowing it to fall on the floor. She placed a kiss on his left shoulder, then kissed over his chest to his right shoulder. She looked up at him and he offered her an encouraging smile. Her hands travelled to his belt, unbuckling it while she took in the perfection of his chest heaving with every lustful breath. She let his trousers drop. His erection evident behind the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Daphne”, Tom breathed, “let me take off your dress…”

Suddenly aware that he would see her naked, her eyes widened with fear. He slowly undid the zipper of her dress. The sound was deafening to her. As he pulled the dress down and attempted to look at her, Daphne had crossed her arms in front of her body. He gently took each arm in his hands and moved them to her sides. Understanding he needed to take this slow, he only looked into her eyes. His right hand cupped her breast, kneading it gently, letting her nipple harden under his efforts. Daphne sighed shakily, half enjoying the attention, half  afraid he was going to hate the look of her.

He circled his arms around her and unclasped her bra. He smiled at her, trying to make her understand it’s OK. Then he dipped down and took one nipple in his mouth. “Ah…” Daphne gasped. He released the nipple with a soft pop before moving to the other. Daphne arched her back. “Lie down…” Tom murmured as he softly pushed her on the bed.

She lay down and he hovered over her, staring at her face. Her beautiful face. Her half-parted plump lips, just begging to be kissed. Her cute nose with those nostrils that flared hilariously when she was angry. He chortled to himself and kissed the nose he had come to adore. Daphne started to pull at his boxers and he helped her slide it over his hips. He kicked his boxers off and then moved down, kissing her body inch by inch. Daphne shivered and moaned. He paused at her large, rounded belly. It was soft and warm. Daphne swallowed, worry written all over her pretty features. Her muscles tensed. Tom noted her responses, then kissed around her navel while slipping her panties off. Then he kissed back up, propping himself up over her as he silently begged for approval.

Daphne stared at him. His eyes had changed. They were not twinkling with mischief nor were they menacing or angry. He looked at her with desire. He dipped down to kiss her lips, his tongue urging her to open. She obliged. His knee gently pushed her legs open. Then he paused.

“Can I…is it safe…should I use…?” he stammered.

“It’s safe…” she sighed. “Please…”

Content with her answer he positioned himself in front of her entrance before sheathing himself inside of her with one fluid thrust.

Both cried out. Daphne’s shout was a mixture of pain and pleasure. Tom held still, allowing her to get used to the size of him.

“You’re tight…” he moaned as he slowly started to thrust.

“You’re…large…” Daphne breathed.

“Should I stop…?”

“God no…no…just…ah…just…like that…just…yesss…” she babbled. The pain ebbed away and was replaced with something wonderful. As she urged him on, Tom became increasingly aroused.

“I love it when you moan”, he murmured, adding his own sounds of longing to hers.

Tom gradually picked up pace. Her large breasts shook with every thrust. Daphne gripped the sheets, bucking up to meet him. “Yes, Tom…harder…” she hissed.

He allowed his hips to snap faster, pushing into her deeper. Sweat formed on his forehead, on her chest. Their bodies glistening with the effort of their passion play.

Daphne was amazed that the feeling of his manhood was enough to bring her to the brink of insanity. With every roll she could feel him grind against her clitoris. The curve of his member brought her closer and closer to a second orgasm every time he slammed into her.

“Will you come with me…” he gasped. “I’m so close, Daphne. I want to hear you scream for me…”

It was the last encouragement Daphne needed. His elegant, warm voice urging her on. The thought of Tom climaxing because of her was just enough to send her over the edge. “Tooommmmm…..!” she cried.

Her walls contracted around him, milking him. Tom widened his eyes.

“Fuck…” he cursed. The sensations were better than he had ever experienced. He came hard, spilling into her, shouting triumphantly. He felt more alive than ever before. He dipped down to kiss her, his tongue drawing hers out. They grunted and moaned into each other’s mouth. Daphne shuddered as her climax faded. Tom panted as he gazed at her. This woman who was the best he’d ever had. This sexy, passionate and fiery woman. This woman who was friends with his mother. This woman he hated.

He rolled on his back, trying to comprehend what had just happened when she rested her head against his shoulder, nuzzling into him. A soft smile curled on her lips as she drifted off to sleep.

Tom felt drowsy. He stared at her from lidded eyes. Right before he drifted to sleep he thought…

_…shit…_


	5. Chapter 5

Dear readers,

I have received lovely comments asking me to keep updating. I believe my silence has been going on too long and you deserve to know why I have not been productive anymore.

I am married to the most wonderful man in the world. Our marriage, though imperfect as all marriages are, was stable and fulfilling to me. My husband has been struggling with depression, but I never felt this was interfering with our marriage. In April I found out that this feeling was not mutual and my husband has decided to leave me and our marital home in an attempt to find a different version of himself.

Though I felt I was coping at first, it soon became clear that I couldn't and I fell into a deep depression, which I'm still struggling with now.

I am currently receiving therapy and was diagnosed with depression (and PTSS). I'm taking medication to sleep and against the depression. Since this last week I feel I'm doing a little better as I am in excellent hands. My wonderful therapists, my doctor and a very select few friends are giving me the pep talks and care I need during these very dark times.

I understand most people feel compelled to point at my husband and call him names and condemn him. Some people in my environment already have. Though I realise this is done through a feeling of solidarity, I have to stress this is unnecessary. There are details surrounding our break up that have led to my depression, but my husband and I are able to talk and he has expressed genuine sorrow for hurting me.

He has been my spouse for ten years, but a friend and confidant for no less than 13. I still love and trust him (one cannot simple erase 13 years of love just like that). I am still comfortable around him and fortunately, I can still count him as my friend. Yes, the relationship is strained right now, but we are both working to becoming better people. I hope to still count him as a very important person in my years to come. Save for one I have always been able to have a very good relationship with my ex-lovers and I cannot imagine my life without the one I chose as my husband playing a role in it, even if the role has changed.

We do not know what the future brings, but currently all I want is to get better and to work on a positive relationship with him in whatever form this may be.

My depression and the events described above have been the reason for my silence this time. I realise I'm not very consistent with my updates regardless. As my mental stability seems to improve I feel an itch to write again (but writing about strained love relationships might actually make it hard for me to cope currently).

I do hope you will remain my faithful readers, even if you might need to wait for an update for a while. I do solemnly promise I will update as soon as I feel I am able to write again.

Kind regards,  
D.  
MrsAlwaysRight


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